


Be My Last

by wormstash (polariscope)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Blood, M/M, Swearing, literally don't read this if you want to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 16:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18014657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polariscope/pseuds/wormstash
Summary: Quentin saves Eliot, but Eliot can't do the same.





	Be My Last

**Author's Note:**

> There was a gifset on tumblr [here](http://steverogrs.tumblr.com/post/183164219071/johnnybyers-she-might-be-alive-you-have-to) that I reimagined as Quentin dying so. This happened.
> 
> I wrote this in about 20 minutes, and it's 700 words of horrible. I apologize.

Eliot comes to with a jolt, groaning in pain. He’s flat on his back, staring up at a vaguely familiar ceiling, barely visible in the shadows of whatever room he’s in. There’s something wet on his hands, face… and hair? But he’s trying to regain enough sense of self to move. Gradually, he shifts his head to the side, and he immediately recognizes the hallway in he’s in.

It’s the castle in Fillory - except it’s far too dark.

He turns his head the other way, and, in an instant, a penetrating chill crawls down his spine.

He’s in Black Spire. And there’s a body less than twenty feet from him.

It’s Quentin.

Suddenly electrocuted with adrenaline, Eliot attempts to get up, but he has so little strength in him. Eliot hazily realizes that the liquid on him is blood. So much blood that he’s soaked in it. There’s no one else around. Why is there no one else around? 

Not only that, but Quentin’s not moving. 

Eliot has to get to him.

He props himself on his forearms and starts dragging his body across the floor, shouting Quentin’s name once, twice.

There’s a delay that seems to stretch out into eternity, before, finally, Eliot hears a weak groan in response, and relief floods like a tidal wave.

“I’m coming, Q,” Eliot responds, pulling himself desperately to get to where Quentin is.

But the closer he gets, the worse it looks.

He eventually gets to him, and Eliot goes numb with panic. Quentin is mutilated. There’s a deep, gruesome gash from neck to navel, gaping, nearly splitting Quentin in two.

He’s bleeding out. He’s dying.

Eliot feels his world crash down around him.

“Quentin, Quentin - can you hear me?” Eliot cries, shifting around so he can pull Quentin’s head on his lap.

Quentin’s eyes flutter open, barely. “El?” The minute he opens his mouth, he coughs up blood.

“Oh god, Q, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eliot pants, wiping as much blood off Quentin’s face as he can, but the blood on his own hands makes it worse. “Fuck! HELP! Is anybody here? HELP!” Eliot shouts, but he has a sinking feeling in him that no one’s around.

He doesn’t know enough healing magic for this. He doesn’t know how to fix this. There’s no one, and he can’t do this.

Quentin’s going to die here.

It hits Eliot like a freight train, and he’s gathering Quentin in his arms - he knows he shouldn’t, that it’ll probably make it worse, but he has to. Eliot has to hold him. He starts to rock him, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Q, say something. Stay with me. Please,” Eliot begs, and Quentin moves his head ever-so-slightly to look up.

“You’re… okay,” Quentin whispers.

It’s a wretched sound.

“You’re not,” Eliot frets. “Q, you’re not okay.”

“El, don’t,” Quentin rasps. “Don’t worry… you’re safe. Find… me.”

“No, fuck, no, Q, what are you saying? This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.” Eliot is trembling; he’s crying; there’s nothing he can do to stop this.

“I love you,” Eliot sobs, voice breaking. “I love you. I should’ve told you a million more times, but I didn’t. Please, don’t leave me.”

Quentin’s barely holding on, and it hits Eliot in the pit of his stomach that there’s little time left.

“Under… world,” Quentin breathes and then coughs up more blood. Eliot wipes at it frantically, scraping it from his mouth in hopes it’ll keep him from choking on it.

“L-love…” Quentin continues, impossibly, and then his eyes are closing, and Eliot senses the finality in it.

“Q, please. Hold on. Please,” Eliot pleads, uselessly.

There's no response. Eliot tries to pull him closer, but Quentin’s head starts to loll, and then his body does too; Eliot is horrifically aware that he’s holding the man he loves… as the life drains out of him.

“No, no, fuck, no. Q, if you can still hear me, Q - I’ll find you,” Eliot sobs, and he continues rocking Quentin, back-forth-back-forth. “I’m going to get you back. I’m coming for you, please. I won’t let you go.” 

Eliot drops his forehead to Quentin’s hair, and screams.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
